What Made Us
by Blonde Pickle Mule
Summary: A cold, sharp blade was pressed to my heaving chest. The dark haired boy looked expectant. "I'm not going to tell you anything except where you can put that sword." Ed/OC set in the Golden Age.
1. Someone Gives Me a Destiny

**_Yes, well...I've ben desperately needing to write a Narnian Fanfic for some time now, and this little beauty popped into my head. I'm not entirely sure when I'll next update, but I'll try and make this my priority after November. Don't expect any updates before then, because I decided to be insane and do NaNoWriMo this year._**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise from the Chronicles of Narnia._**

**_PROLOGUE:  
_**

* * *

_Four crowns sat upon faded pillows of red velvet, intricately woven with delicate patterns. Two beavers carried them up the marble steps of a grand dais, where four thrones proudly stood in all their glory._

_Four children stood in front of each throne, decked out in fine clothes. A creature half man, half goat, tottered up the steps in an emerald green scarf and took the smallest circlet of interwoven laurel leaves of the purest silver. Stepping up to the throne on the far left, he bowed low before a small girl of about nine, who was dressed in blue silk and a red velvet cloak, and placed the circlet gently on her head. She beamed up at him as a deep voice boomed "To the glistening Eastern Sea I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant."_

_The faun then moved onto the throne on the far right and lifted a silver crown onto the brow of a small boy of about ten, decked out in a silver tunic and royal blue cloak. His serious brown eyes sparkled with happiness, and he seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders as the crown touched his head. "To the Great Western Wood, I give you King Edmund the Just."_

_The faun then moved onto the inner left throne, and lifted a shimmering golden circlet of interlinked daffodils to the raven hair of the most beautiful twelve year old ever known. Her soft violet eyes shone with joy, complimenting her sea blue dress and deep grey cloak. "To the Radiant Southern Sun, I give you Queen Susan the Gentle."_

_Then the faun moved onto the inner right throne with a large golden crown befitting a great king. He placed this crown reverently upon the brow of a young boy of only thirteen, but with great passion and grace in his electric blue eyes as he lifted his head. As he surveyed the hall of his cheering subjects, he rose out of the deep blue tunic in which he had been hiding and filled out his golden cloak. "And to the Clear Northern Sky, I give you High King Peter, The Magnificent."_

_The four new rulers stood strong and tall before their thrones before sitting, and looking out upon their people with all the grace and serenity a ruler should posses._

* * *

_A new vision blurred into place. Three of the rulers, about six years older, were crowded round a large four poster bed with deep red hangings. A pale face stood out against a shock of black hair. It was the youngest King, and quite obviously he was dying._

_The littlest Queen clutched at his hand imploringly, and the elder Queen sobbed into the High King's shoulder, even as tears streamed down his own face. The little Queen pulled back the bed covers, to reveal a shocking wound that slashed open the young King's chest, the bandages around it were sodden with vivid blood, and the young king's face was chalk white. With tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, the little Queen dribbled some scarlet liquid from a small glass bottle into the younger King's mouth. Minutes passed, and still nothing happened._

_A wild look came onto the High King's face. He lurched forward and felt the younger King's neck for a pulse. Obviously unsuccessful, he collapsed to the floor sobbing, cradling the elder of the two Queens in his arms._

_Outside the carnage of a recent battle littered the castle grounds. Bodies of strange creatures and heavy set men littered the grass, the green almost erased by blood. _

_"He died for us, his country." The youngest Queen gasped through her tears. "Oh, Ed..."_

* * *

Alice shot bolt upright, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She could hear her pulse racing in her ears as she peered exhaustedly around her bedroom. The dreams she'd woken from stood out sharply against the backdrop of sleep in her mind. She had never in her life had dreams that were so vivid before- she'd almost felt that if she'd reached out a hand she could have touched the marble columns of the hall, felt the drapes in the bedroom. Who on earth _were_ those people? Where did they rule? When did they rule? And most importantly...why had that boy died? In the darkness of her room, a rich voice seemed to roll out of the shadows, filling her right to the core with love, status and might.

"Many trials await you, Daughter of Eve, trails only you can face. You have seen two visions, one is now and one is the future if you should fail your task. I call you, my daughter, to your destiny."

Immediately silence fell again, with it taking the presence and leaving Alice with a strange sense of loss. Shakily drawing a hand across her forehead, Alice rolled over onto her back and fell into a dreamless slumber, her mouth pressed into a grim line as she slept.


	2. I Almost Get Turned Into A Kebab

**Well, would you look at that? I've actually come back to this story! No new chapters yet, but hopefully there will be soon. I've done a complete re-write of this chapter after realising just how bad the old one was. I've also made some major changes to the country I've made, including stuff like its name. Hope you like!**

**Disclaimer: Put it this way. If I was C.S. Lewis, I'd be dead. But I'm not, so Narnia is not mine.**

* * *

At thirteen, I was not a particularly diligent student. It was a difficult thing to be when being taught by a grumpy old man who hated children four times a week. I shut my eyes with a little sigh and resisted the urge to lay my head on the desk as Mr Brandrick carried on reading Macbeth in his thin, nasally voice.

I hadn't slept well at all last night, and all day I hadn't been able to shake the feeling that I was forgetting something important. As a result I had dark shadows blooming under my eyes, and my face was pale and pasty. My dad had found it necessary to call me a vampire that morning, which hadn't made me feel any better.

"Alice, would you please pay attention?"

I started guiltily, before mumbling an apology to Mr Brandrick and thumbing to the right page in my copy of the play.

"In fact, since you seem to be having trouble staying awake, would you please read the part of Macbeth for us in the next scene?"

I felt my heart sink, heat already rushing to my cheeks. If there was one thing I hated above anything else it was being the centre of attention, especially when it required me to read boring plays that I didn't care about at all.

"Yes Sir." I mumbled half-heartedly, but before I could get started on the first line, Cameron, the small weasel-like boy who sat next to me, began snickering at my misfortune. I sent him a glare that could have melted steel, kicking him sharply under the table as I started speaking, deliberately not making eye contact with anybody. God how I hated my teacher in that moment. I stumbled unhappily over the Shakespearean language, my humiliation growing. When I was finished I slumped back in my seat, willing the blush to fade from my cheeks.

"All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, thane of Glamis!" Laughter erupted throughout the class as Nick, who was reading out one of the witches, spoke in a loud, high-pitched cackle. I joined in happily, thankful that I could rely on the drama queens of the class to take the attention away from me. Mr Brandrick swelled up like a frog.

"Nicholas! If you cannot read properly please do not read at all!"

Nick grinned impishly, his brown eyes glittering with mischief. "Of course, your Majesty."

There was a collective intake of breath from everyone in the room as our teacher turned a rather stunning shade of puce. "_What _did you just call me?" Mr Brandrick hissed, his scrunched up face making him look almost like an owl.

"I thought you'd be flattered!" Nick exclaimed, grin still in place as he pretended to be upset. I stared at him with fascination and awe. How did he have the guts to keep digging his own grave like that? Despite myself I was a bit impressed, if only by his self confidence.

"_Get out of my classroom_!" The teacher hissed, his hand visibly shaking as he pointed towards the door.

"But Sir-" Nick began, but Mr Brandrick leapt to his feet.

"_OUT_!"

Knowing when to leave enough alone Nick casually got to his feet and slunk out the door, giving the class a cheery wink on his way. Our teacher bulldozed off after him, slamming the door. The whole class was silent for a moment before excited chatter filled the classroom, along with no small amount of amusement. I twisted in my seat immediately to grin at my best friend Emma behind me, my eyes wide.

"I cannot believe he just did that, Em!" I giggled, catching sight of the clock and internally dancing when I realised there were only ten minutes left until my piano lesson.

"Can't you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and flipping her sheet of impossibly straight brown hair over shoulder. I frowned at it in envy, thinking of my own blonde mop of curls that never did what I wanted. "He's always causing trouble in lessons, and you know how many times he's argued with Mr Brandrick."

"Yes, but he's never done anything like _that_!" I shook my head in amazement. "I mean, he called a teacher _your majesty_!"

She just started laughing at me, her smile wide and a little bit condescending. "You're so innocent, Alice. You can never believe it when anyone does anything wrong."

I frowned at her, thinking privately that I could believe it, I just couldn't understand how anyone had the nerve. Whenever _I _got told off I burned with complete humiliation and was self conscious around the teacher in question for the rest of the lesson. I knew very well that other people weren't like that- my oldest brother Daniel had been excluded twice for rule-breaking while he was in Secondary School, after all.

Our conversation was cut short by Mr Brandrick re-entering the room, so I turned back round and tried to look like I hadn't been doing anything. Unfortunately he hadn't forgotten my role in the play, and so I was forced to endure five more minutes of Macbeth before I was able to escape.

I got up to the music rooms quickly, a smile lighting up my face when I caught sight of my piano teacher. He got me set up immediately, running through a couple of sets of arpeggios. I sighed with happiness at the feeling of my fingers running over the keys. The school pianos were horribly out of tune, but I loved the sound and feel of a real piano more than anything. I only had a keyboard at home, so I could practise in between lessons. I'd been begging for the real thing for years, but with six children at home my parents couldn't afford it. There was also the matter of the twins, who were only six and had a talent for breaking everything they touched. I cringed at the thought of Charlotte and Adam getting their little hands on a grand piano.

When I had finished the warm up I retrieved my sheet music from my bag, and settled down for fifteen minutes of bliss in an otherwise horrible Monday.

* * *

After my piano lesson the day didn't improve, my History teacher setting us an essay that was bound to take me a couple of hours to complete. After school I trudged miserably home, my feet slapping on the wet pavement. Rain was pouring from the sky in earnest, the clouds an unrelenting shade of grey. I was incredibly annoyed with myself, having considered taking an umbrella with me this morning, but deciding against it.

My curls slowly plastered themselves to my head as more rain hit me full on, my school uniform sticking to me and letting the cold wind chill me to the bone. Shivering, I kept my head low, trying to shield my eyes from the rain. It was already difficult to see, because the rain had made the sky so dark it almost looked like it was night-time. Even for late October that weather was strange at three in the afternoon.

It only took that one moment of me not watching where I was going for one of the kids running past to crash straight into me, their elbow driving right into my stomach. With a gasp of shock that I could feel reflecting in my face, my feet slid out from under me on the wet concrete.

What happened next was so confusing, I had trouble remembering it later. One moment I was face down on the road from my fall, utterly winded and clutching my newly-skinned elbow. The next moment there was a terrible squealing of tires, dozens of shouts echoing frantically around me, before headlights blinded me as I sat up. Dimly, I felt something strike me, but it was distant. I _knew _that my body was twisting and turning through the air, but I couldn't feel it. Then the next second I hit the ground, pain flooding every nerve in my body. I tried to scream but I couldn't find the sound. I tried to move but I couldn't find the strength.

Heavily I blinked past the still falling rain, agony flaring through my chest, before I felt the sensation of falling down a dark tunnel and knew nothing more of this world or the next.

* * *

A branch cracked near my head, the sound unbearably loud. _What had happened?_ I lay still for a moment, my body feeling unnaturally heavy. The last thing I could remember was walking home...then it all came flooding back to me and I sat up with a start only to fall back down when I saw my surroundings. Woodland stretched as far as the eye could see, dark and strange to someone who lived in the city. Where _was _I? I couldn't be in London, there wasn't anything like this near the place! My whole body burned and throbbed from being hit by the car, my ribs screaming their protest every time I breathed, but I struggled to pull myself upright, my fear overriding the pain.

Then, even after everything I'd been through that day, from being run-over to waking up in the middle of a deserted wood, my life managed to get even worse. I had just successfully reached an upright position, hunched over with pain and misery, when something cold, metal and incredibly sharp was pressed against my throat. If I didn't know any better I would have guessed it was a sword, but nobody carried those things around with them any more did they?

"Turn around." A rough gravelly voice from somewhere above me to my right ordered. Considering my situation, I didn't have a choice but to obey. Shaking feebly I did as I was told, meeting steely grey eyes in a face just as unforgiving. From what I could see past this strange man, I was completely surrounded by more men, each of them wielding a crossbow, which wasn't the strangest thing about them. They were all in chain-mail and tunics, like something out of a medieval fair. Now that I looked at the man in front of me, I saw he was dressed much the same, though his clothes were finer, and instead of a crossbow, he held what was indeed a sword directly against me. I gulped. This was not good, for my health or for my sanity.

"Who are you?" I didn't like his voice any better the second time I heard it, but still tried to find my voice. Better talk than be skewered. "Speak quickly!"

"A-Alice. Alice Mosely." I managed to get out, heart hammering in my chest. The man sneered, the lines on his weathered face becoming more pronounced.

"Well, _Alice, _I find you're trespassing on our land." I blinked in confusion. _Trespassing?_ "And everyone knows the penalty for trespass."

I didn't, but I could give a pretty good guess because of all the sharp pointy things being waved in my direction. "T-Trespass? Penalty?" I stuttered, trying to inch my way backwards. The man frowned, taking in my still soaking wet school uniform and dishevelled appearance.

"Where exactly do you come from girl?" The man asked me, giving the signal for the crossbows to be loaded. "There aren't any settlements near here."

"London." I blurted quickly, willing to say anything to save my own skin. Obviously this didn't ring any bells, and the man raised his hand in the signal to fire. I tried again, feeling the panic rise in my chest. I didn't want to die! Just the thought of all the bolts hitting my body made the blood drain from my face. I'd never been big on pain. "London, England?"

The man froze, fingers almost all the way up. "England you say?" I nodded, mute in my fear. A smile slid onto the man's face and he lowered his hand. I didn't miss the glance he passed to the soldier on his left, and I didn't like it at all. It was the kind of look someone gets when they want something very badly, and that something has just come into their grasp.

The same gloved hand that had nearly sentenced me to death now appeared in front of my nose. Gingerly I took it, allowing the man to pull me to my feet. He grinned down at me with that same unnerving expression and I repressed a shiver.

"Welcome to the country of Kírvona, Alice."

* * *

**I know, she's not in Narnia yet. But don't worry, I do actually know what I'm doing now. She'll be there soon, I promise.**

**Do you have any thoughts? Ways I can make it better? **


	3. I Smell Freedom

**Ooooh, look at me updating! Aren't I a rebel? Yep, I've come crawling back to this story, after God knows how long. I kind of know what I'm doing, but there's an element of just making it up as I go along. Ah well. I'm sure my creative genius will decide to wander in at some point. I'll try and update this regularly, but that might not happen for a month or so- I've got all my GCSE exams starting in a week. Convenient, right? Just bear with me and throw rotten fruit if I don't get my butt in gear ;)**

**Disclaimer: The years can keep on going by and I still won't own Edmund Pevensie's booty. Oh, woe is me.**

* * *

**Three Years Later.**

Today was the day, the big one. In less than twenty four hours I was going to be further away from this bunk bed than I'd been in three whole years. Just the thought of it was making me a little light headed. I had been working towards this moment for so long it hadn't seemed real, and now it was finally going to happen. I could hardly believe it. For a few minutes I lay in the half-darkness just savoring the feeling of freedom. I'd forgotten what it was like. The tight thrill of fear that usually lay in the background of my mind was gone. Soft snoring filled the low building, but for the first time it didn't annoy me. Neither did the scratchy sheets on my mattress or the smothering roof of the bed above me. It would probably take a dagger to the ribs to spoil my good mood this morning.

Across the room a little window looked into the courtyard, and silently I watched the shadows begin to fade from the severe stone. Just before first light I slipped out of my narrow bunk in the barracks, pulling on a tunic over my undershirt. Then I secured my hair in a braid, swung on my cloak and hurried through the rows of sleeping men to get to the courtyard.

The early morning air was crisp, the fathomless blue sky touched with light at the horizon. Above the rooftops of the camp I could just make out the frost bitten tips of the pine trees beyond, stretching away into the distance. After stopping a moment to relight the lantern by the barracks door I made my way across the courtyard to the mess hall, thankful for the heat as it washed over me.

The hall wasn't very big- we didn't have that many members in our intelligence. It was made out of grey stone and was rather plain, with rough benches and tables set into large rows down it's length. It had always smelt strongly of moldy hay in all the time I'd been here, and after the cold air outside it was incredibly strong. I wrinkled my nose against it, but knew from experience that it would soon fade. Due to the time of day there was barely anyone else there, but I spotted a familiar figure sitting in the corner with a bowl of porridge and made my way over.

"Morning, Jarin."

My friend grunted in response, shoveling more food into his mouth before answering. "You're up early Alice."

I grinned at him, swinging my feet up onto the bench next to him. "Today's the day I leave, remember? I've got to meet with Alon before I go and it's quite a long journey." Jarin grimaced at me at the mention of our over-seer.

"You have fun with that."

Alon was the man who had found me in the forest all those years ago and he was a cruel man. It did have to be said however that the rest of the nobility followed his lead. As I had found out immediately upon my arrival, Kírvona was not a forgiving country. It was only due to the fact that I fit neatly into a scheme the nobility had been plotting for years that I was alive at all, and it was made clear to me that if said scheme failed, my punishment would be swift. I'd never been a particularly diligent student, but there's something about death threats that really kicks you into gear. I'd never worked harder in my life, learning the ways of a spy to perfection.

I rolled my eyes, glaring at the table. It still made me scoff to hear the title. Me, a spy. I hated the word- I hated everything it stood for. I hated the fact that I only lived to steal other people's secrets, and I hated the fact that the men I was stealing them for were no better than pigs. I hated the fact I might die as a pawn in someone else's game. A wry laugh threatened to escape me; if I did die then it wouldn't matter. It wasn't as if there was anyone to care.

"I can try. I can't wait to finally get out of here." I sighed, pushing a strand of hair that had escaped from my braid back behind my ear. Jarin finished his porridge and pulled his tea towards him. Normally he was more talkative but he'd been given night training and wasn't very happy. Once he'd taken a large sip he looked back at me, dark brown eyes sleepy.

"You'll be back before you know it if everything goes according to plan." he reminded me. "Why is it _you _that needs to go to Narnia anyway? I've never understood that."

"I come from the same place as the Kings and Queens there." I shrugged. "The theory is that if they find me in the woods and I claim to have stumbled in from my old world, then they'll take me in because they've been in the same position."

Jarin's eyes lit up with comprehension. "And then you can pass information from inside the castle itself! That's brilliant Alice!"

"Don't look at me, I didn't think of it." I told him darkly. "And from what they've taught me it won't be any better there than it is here. The talking animals are wild beasts, and the royals are said to be barbarians." Narnia was a country to the east of Kírvona, and the King here had had his sights on it for around six years- ever since the Pevensies had taken the four thrones in fact. Before that someone who was widely called the White Witch had ruled, and she had been frightening enough that nobody had even considered an invasion. I'd heard plenty of stories about what she was like, and about the hundred year winter that had turned the borders of this country into a barren wasteland.

"Well you'll be used to it from the people here, so I wouldn't worry." Jarin grinned, taking another gulp. I knew he was just trying to make me feel better, and smiled weakly. A few spies had been sent into Narnia before, and they'd all come back with the same horrific stories of terrifying beasts and ruthless royals.

"Maybe..." I sighed, as a few more people appeared for their breakfast. "I'd better get going- Alon won't like to be kept waiting on a day like today."

"You take care." Jarin told me seriously, pulling my braid gently and gathering me in for a hug. He was the only person who gave the slightest damn about me here- everyone else kept themselves to themselves, save for the occasional trollish grunt. "No storming the castle by yourself."

I snorted then, pulling away and getting to my feet. "As if that'd happen. I'd get as far as the gates and crush myself trying to open the portcullis."

He laughed, waving at my back as I walked away. I flashed him one last grin over my shoulder as I left the building, then felt it fade as a lead weight of worry settled over me. I always felt like this when I had to see Alon. The man made me nervous. With him your first impression was about as good as he would ever get- that was to say, not at all.

Near the mess hall a long row of private rooms stood, looking down over the rest of the training camp. They were made of the finest building materials the country had to offer, with doors of solid oak that were finely carved and decorative brickwork about the windows. I headed right to the center office, the most lavish of the lot. I could see firelight reflected on the frosted glass of the window, and with a heavy heart I lifted the bear-shaped doorknocker, accepting that I couldn't put it off any longer.

The resounding knock it made as it thumped against the wood seemed to reverberate through my entire body. There was a beat of silence before the door swung open to reveal my worst nightmare. Some people mellowed with age- Alon, it seemed, was not one of them. In fact he only seemed to get crueler, something I would have thought impossible had I not witnessed it with my own eyes. He glared fiercely when he saw me stood on his doorstep, the thin line of his mouth tightening. He had to have practiced that expression in the mirror; one could not become evil personified if they didn't work for it, surely?

"You're late." He barked, his grey eyes glittering dangerously. I gulped and scuttled past him. "I suppose it doesn't matter too much, but see it doesn't happen again. I want every report accurate to the day while you're undercover. _Am I understood_?"

"Yes Sir," I mumbled, taking a seat in front of his desk while Alon prowled his way to the cupboard behind it. The entire office was furnished with dark ebony, the walls hung with dark green tapestries. I could barely see Alon in his black uniform against it all; black to reflect his soul, I thought wildly, repressing a hysterical giggle. "Everything's still...good to go, Sir?"

"Of course it is. Here-" He handed me a very familiar worn bundle from the depths of the cupboard. I wrinkled my nose as I shook out my old school uniform. Age had done it as little good as it had Alon; my blazer had faded horribly and there was a large hole in the knee of my trousers. What had Alon been _doing _with it? Using it for target practice? "Our scouts have informed me that there is a Narnian hunting party close to our borders today, so you shouldn't have any problem running into them. The spy relay is set up and awaiting your word in exactly a week. You know what you have to do?"

"Yes, thank you Sir." I said.

"I need not tell you the consequences if you fail..." He trailed off ominously, his mouth curling into a smirk. "They will be most unpleasant."

"I- I understand." I stuttered, hating myself for showing weakness in front of him. He said nothing, but his aura of satisfied smugness was nauseating. There was nothing Alon liked better than evidence of his own superiority.

"Then you may take your leave. I look forward to your first report, Alice."

Shaking slightly, I got to my feet and near enough bolted from the room. It took a long time for my uneasiness to fade, and I didn't feel better until I'd returned to the barracks and changed. My school uniform was a couple of sizes too small for me now, the fabric stretched and uncomfortable across my body. I tugged at it all uselessly for a few more minutes before giving up. It was just going to have to do.

With one last look around the now empty room, I couldn't put it off any longer. There was nothing left to do- the clothes on my back were the only things I was going to need. A sick twisting feeling took over my stomach as I left the barracks and made my way to the front gates. God, I was such a basket case. Hadn't I just been saying I couldn't wait to leave?

Now that it came down to it though, I couldn't deny that I was scared. Which place was worse, in the end? Kírvona, with its corrupt upper class and starving poor? Or Narnia, with its wild beasts and barbarian population? Maybe it made me a wuss, but I really wished I wasn't the one destined to find out. But we don't always get what we want.

Alon stood by the gates of the camp, watching silently as I made my way past him into the great unknown. The look on his face said everything he needed to any way: _Fail and you die_. My stomach gave another terrified lurch as I faced the forest alone.

"Okay, Alice," I mumbled, "Time to make like Mulan and man up."

How hard could this be really?


	4. I Fall Down the Proverbial Rabbit Hole

**Oooh, look at me, back again. Not too bad, eh? I promise the story's pace will pick up soon, setting the stage is just taking a while. At least she's in Narnia now! Please drop in and tell me what you think, I won't bite. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own Narnia- my wardrobe only contains a dead end.**

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Time caught up with me a few hours later as I hurtled down a tree-covered hill at several miles per hour, screaming bloody murder. Canons didn't have anything on me. Forest flew past at an alarming rate, crashing into me every so often just for good measure. So far I had a bruise the size of Asia on my right hip, what I presumed was some sort of scratch across my right cheek and several unknown injuries that had turned into a fierce background throbbing. My brain had been knocked out of my skull several hundred meters back. Why did things like this _always _happen to me?

Apparently it was just too much to ask that this much of the journey go smoothly. With a resounding thud I collided with a tree at the bottom of the hill and came to an abrupt stop, the air forcing its way out of my lungs with a choked gasp. Was this what it felt like to go through a meat grinder? The trees, bless their little demon souls, stood in unremorseful silence as I peeled myself from the leaves and staggered to my feet, weak as a baby lamb. Three years of training decimated by nature. What a crying shame, as my eldest brother used to say.

My lungs working furiously as they tried to draw in breath, I staggered to my feet and massaged my ribs. As far as bad omens went, this one came pretty high up on my list. I was barely over Narnia's border and already the land itself was trying to kill me. With a weary sigh I peered nervously around me, panic threatening to break through. Where on earth was I? Not for the first time curses came to mind as I thought of Alon's stupid face. Couldn't the man have been more specific?

_Oh, just wait for the scouting party to find you, Alice. There's no possible way that you'll get lost Alice. _What did he know? This forest was bloody big, and I was just one small insignificant girl. It was likely that we wouldn't run into each other at all, and then where would I be? Lost and alone in hostile woodland with no sense of preservation at all. Freaking brilliant.

Frightened tears threatened to break through for a second, before I ruthlessly pushed them back. Crying was the last thing I wanted to do. 'Helpless Damsel in Distress' had never been a title that sat well on my tongue, and besides, I had a job to do. I'd lose my head if I didn't. The only way to go was forward, I grinned ruefully, picking a random direction and starting in it with hollow determination. I knew very well that I'd break down again if I was still out here when night fall came, but it was nice to try and pretend otherwise.

Old leaves crunched beneath my feet as I padded between the trees, my eyes sweeping through the forest for any sign of life. Besides a couple of leaping squirrels, there was none. A faint earthy breeze filtered lazily through the canopy every so often, clearing a little of the stifling heat. Dappled sunlight hit the forest floor in little pools, unearthly and beautiful. The air felt strangely close beneath the forest's leafy boughs, almost as if it were holding its breath. It smelt of rotting leaves, rich, fresh earth and heady tree sap.

After a while, I almost began to enjoy myself. It was hard not to feel at peace in the near quiet, though I'd learnt my lesson and watched carefully where I walked. My panic slowly began to feel distant. I should have known better. It only took one moment of not paying proper attention, of being too absorbed in the distant call of a bird, for me to get sneaked up on. It was pretty embarrassing, to be honest. One second I was smiling, and then the next there was a naked sword pressed up against my throat; bright, cold and terrifyingly sharp. I squeaked.

"Turn around stranger, and show yourself!" A rough voice said from directly behind me. All at once my pulse rocketed, my limbs turning to jelly where I stood. If there was one thing that had not changed about me in the three years I'd been in this godforsaken place, it was that I did not like to be threatened.

Carefully, slowly, I did as I was told, my hands held before me in a sign of my good will...not that I actually had any. In fact, I wondered nervously whether my guilt showed on my face. How was I ever going to get through this? My poker face was about as good as an elephant trying to pass for a llama. Then I got a good look at my new captor and all coherent thought was obliterated. It felt like a bomb had just detonated inside my head.

My brother James had always told me that in the event of being assaulted I should 'play football with a man's nads and run like a bat out of hell, Ally'. I was fully prepared to follow his wise words of wisdom to the letter, but the problem was I didn't quite know where to kick. The face frowning down at me was human, but his legs...well, they had _hooves. _And there were _four _of them.

"Holy butt munching Batman," I breathed, sitting down hard. There could have been a choir of cross dressing flamingos waltzing past and I wouldn't have noticed. "Y-You...you're a _horse_!"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. The creature's human end looked outraged, letting out a positive roar that pretty much shattered my eardrums.

"I. Am. A. _Centaur_!" He bellowed, rearing up onto his hind legs with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a neigh for someone denying horse-hood. "_Bloody foreigners._"

His face was so angry I was almost sure the metaphorical daggers in his eyes were about to become literal. Oh God, I was going to die. I was going to die, and I would never get to see my mother's face again. Somewhere along the line, my head reconnected with the rest of my body. I shot to my feet and with a desperate wail of "Please don't eat me" went streaking away through the undergrowth, my heat beating thunderously in my ears.

There was another loud neigh behind me and a shout. "Quick! Someone stop her! Catch her my Lord!"

Clearing a log with possibly the most ungraceful leap I had ever achieved, I put on a burst of adrenaline-fuelled speed, my legs working faster than they ever had before. There was probably a much more sensible solution to the problem at hand, but I'd just encountered a mammal that could neigh and cuss me out at the same time. Rational had become a city five billion miles behind me.

There were more shouts from the underbush as I dodged ferns and fought my way through brambles, getting closer and closer. As much as I wished otherwise, I was not an Olympic standard runner. It showed. In the end it was a knarly, mean looking tree root that brought an end to my escapade, my foot catching the top of it before I hit the deck like a sack of flour. A sharp flare of pain jolted through my head as it connected with the floor before I felt the last shreds of my dignity slither away into the shadows.

You know how possums "play dead"? Picture that. Now picture me face down in the leaves. The only difference between me and the possum in that moment was that I wasn't covered with fur. Stuck in a strange in-between world of fear, my limbs shot through with pins, needles and helplessness, I could only listen as echoing voices exploded all around me. It was the only the second time that I had ever been utterly surrounded, but I could already reliably declare that I hated it.

The toe of a boot pressed into my knee. A shudder ran through my body, blood roaring behind my temples. My sense of reason had finally arrived, embarrassed and unfashionably late, and I understood with new heights of dread that the next few minutes would determine the future of the entire mission. _Play cool Dummy...Play cool...You're an ice queen, cooler than ice cream...Oh wait, they don't like ice queens here, better not do that..._

"On your feet!" A male voice came from somewhere above my head. Something sharp and pointy jabbed into the space between my shoulder blades. Cold nausea settled into the pit of my stomach, along with a dark emotion that coiled like a spring. The pointy thing jabbed harder. "On your _feet_!"

At least they didn't sound angry yet. Taking deep slow breaths, I pushed myself up off the ground and onto my knees, my limbs shakier than a leaf in the breeze. I planted one foot, followed by the other, then straightened up to find myself looking into an entire hunting party made up of my worst nightmares. There were horse-men, goat-men, a flipping leopard with reading glasses...apparently the Freak Circus had come to town. Why couldn't I sit down again? Collapse seemed imminent, or at least severe hyperventilation.

"Who are you? What is your business here?" The male voice spoke again over my left shoulder. I became bitingly aware of the point still digging into my shoulder blades, the dark emotion in my stomach coiling tighter. What was it with these people and threatening me with sharp objects? Did I _look _dangerous to them? Small girl, alone in the woods, ragged clothing, covered in dirt. _I think not._

"Turn around." The voice said, irritation creeping into it. "What's your name?" The point jabbed even harder. A sharp stabbing pain like a bee sting multiplied by several allergies and a bee-hive rocketed down my spine and all of a sudden I was so angry I could barely think.

I whirled in a spectacular blur of flailing limbs. The first thing I noticed was that I'd been offered an upgrade- the blade at my neck was definitely the fanciest I'd been threatened with so far. It had rubies in the hilt; the same colour, I imagined, as my blood would be if its owner leant forward any harder. The second thing I noticed was that I had finally located what was apparently the only human in the entire hunting party.

The dark haired boy in front of me looked expectant, and I felt an unwelcome sense of déja vu from my entrance to Kírvona all those years ago. And so, I snapped.

"I'm not going to tell you _anything_ except where you can put that sword." For a split second I felt rather proud of myself, before I realised that I'd probably just signed my own death warrant.

Coldly, the boy gave me a once over, his dark eyes fixating on my old school uniform. I was busy composing a prayer that he wouldn't notice it was a couple of inches too short, when his silver crown caught the light, effectively bringing it to my attention. Great. I'd not been in Narnia half an hour and I'd already told one of the royals to stick it.

There was a dead beat of silence, before the leopard with reading glasses padded forward. "Your majesty? If I may be so bold...I think you're scaring her."

The King blinked, before a soft expression stole over his face. It was strange how kind it made him look. With a small smile he lowered his sword and inclined his head towards me, moving as one would around a startled animal. "My apologies. My name is King Edmund, may I ask of your business in Narnia? Forgive us if we acted too hastily- relations with Kírvona are...not as they could be."

Huh...well, the younger king didn't appear too barbaric at first glance, but I wasn't going to hold my breath. _Act natural... _"I. I...I'm Alice and I-" I took in a great, shuddering breath, horrified to find myself on the edge of tears. God this was embarrassing. Shock had well and truly caught up with me it seemed, because this time I couldn't hold them back as I dissolved into a watery sob. "I don't know where I am! I just want to go back to London, please!"

The warm expression drained from King Edmund's face along with all his blood. Suddenly he looked like he was about to faint. "Orius, make ready to return to the Cair. Please come with us Alice, we'll explain everything."


End file.
